Styles & Co.

Chapter Ten.

Warning: Mild Smut included.

Last night was one of those glorious nights where we failed to keep our hands off of each other, I guess we could designate it 'celebratory sex'. If there wasn't such thing, there definitely is now.

I leisurely wake up, my eyes opening to reveal my soon to be husband staring out the window, a pair of sweatpants hanging loosely over him. He turns around and he provides me with a modest smile.

"Hey, you finally woke up." He grins, staying by the window as I move my legs within the silky sheets, the silkiness of the sheets brushing against my skin in a satisfying manner.

I nod, "Mhm, and you're not beside me." I arc my lips into a pout before he shuffles over to the bed to lean down and kiss me sweetly.

"Mornin' sweetheart," He murmurs against my lips, "Our weekend get-away sadly has to end." He declares, only causing me to sigh.

Three days alone with him is not enough for me.

"I'm not ready to leave," I inform him, moving the white sheet to expose a little bit more of my skin, trying to grasp his attention entirely.

"I know, but my business does not need to burn to the ground, at least not yet."

"It'll be okay for a few more hours." I tug on his arm, "You really want to turn down your soon to be wife who is currently only covered by a very, very transparent sheet?" I smirk, watching as he bites down on his lip, perhaps debating on what he wants more at this moment.

He leans down and kisses me deeply, before pulling his greedy mouth away from mine.

"I got you coffee and breakfast, we should hit the road." He sighs, trying to avoid eye contact with me.

"Ouch, turning down your fiancée."

"I'm not— fuck it." He lowers himself closer to me, taking possession of my mouth, intensely kissing me, his hand moving the sheet away from my body, his hands gliding up the softness of my skin, sending sweet shivers down my spine.

He drags his mouth away from mine with a heavy groan when the sound of his phone ringing disrupts us, "ignore it." I mumble, pulling him back in for a sloppy kiss as the ringtone continues to echo. The room grows silent and all that is heard is the sound of our breathing. We are distracted again by his phone.

"I need to get it." He mumbles against my lips, leaving a few quick kisses before he leans over to the side to reach his phone. "It's not mine." He sighs, picking up my phone and looking at the caller ID. "It's your fucking phone." He hisses, placing the phone beside me before promptly removing himself from my body.

I pick up my phone and sigh, Logan Meyer.

"Harry, come back." I softly command as he wanders away from the bed, completely disregarding what we were commencing.

"Answer the fucking twat." He shakes his head as he reaches for the blue sweater he left out from the travel bag.

I ignore the call.

✾ ✾ ✾

From the moment Harry viewed the call, he has been withdrawn and irritated, refusing to look at me or talk to me for that matter. To say the least, this four-hour car ride is going to be the car ride from hell with his silence.

Harry has failed to even acknowledge my presence in the car, it has been an hour and a half of silence, his hands gripped to the steering wheel, his eyes sternly focused on the road. Nothing but the radio stopping me from losing my mind and aggravating him more by trying to force him to talk to me.